Big Dune Day

We invite the neighbor girls to join us for a hike atop America’s tallest sand dune. We hope to hit the sweet spot between spring mosquitoes and the summer swelter. Oh, and to avoid wind. Wind is a killer on the dune.

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Cow pies dotting Simco Road are the first sign of unusual traffic ahead. Soon we see cowboys on horses flagging traffic while others drive cattle alongside the road.

As we continue past the little cattle drive, one of the three girls in the back plays “The Duck Song” from her phone and I learn a new favorite tune. Somehow I totally missed this when it was new. But now I’m totally in.

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It is still early in the year and some low lying parts of the path are under water — just more adventure. It reminds me of a little misadventure I had with Brenna and Hunter out here late one night about five years ago. I’ll have to tell you about that sometime.

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Past the water, the path ends at the sand’s edge and we begin quickly to climb, steeper and steeper. We rise into wind that is steady but only strong enough to lift a thin layer of sand to form a kind of indistinct horizon, a blurry edge.

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We know how suddenly kid legs can become “tired” when hiking so we call for them to come “this way” rather than burn energy picking up each stick and looking at each mound on our way up. We’re pretty much ignored, though.

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The girls take an interest in … well, I’m not even sure what. Some sticks? The path is clear so Jessica and I continue on a while before pausing to make sure they’re coming. After a minute, an older couple comes into view carrying the girls’ jackets and shoes so their hands can be free to hold both ends of a large branch.